NORBAC Chapter 9
by Linde Knighton
I knew it was really the action of my vega nerve. but I felt my stomach drop. I hadn't even seen Jack yet and I would have to leave late tonight in order to prepare for this. Not only that, but I knew something big was coming up for me personally this weekend. Mom swears I'm a little bit psychic, and I fight the notion because it is NOT scientific...but there are times when I wonder.
On the other hand, what was my little life compared with nearly 10,000 people dead of Ebola and a chance to save so many others?
I took a deep breath and answered. "I'll have to make some travel plans in order to manage that. I'll call you back once I have everything ready."
We finished the call, and I washed my face in the Ladies Room because I had let some tears escape. Then I forced a smile and walked back to our table. It's no good trying to fool anyone who had known you for thirty-eight years.
"What happened, Kiddo?" Dad looked really worried, and Mom stood up, turning pale. I sat down while both of them searched my face.
"I need to return to Toronto tomorrow for a conference call with most of the heads of state of South America. They are offering help with the Ebola Project."
Mom nodded. "And?"
"I have to do this—and I won't get to see Jack."
Dad had his cell phone out in a flash. He dialed without a word to either of us.
"Engineering, please. Harry Brings, Please...Harry, it's E.G. Can we get a Skype or even satellite time for tomorrow between Boston and Brasilia/"
My jaw dropped. I keep forgetting what my dad can do if he is willing to pull strings.
Dad was writing something on a notepad. "Uh Huh, yeah. Check. Might be longish, it about the Ebola thing. Yeah-heads of state of most of South America. They want to talk to my daughter. How about that, huh?" He winked at me, while Mom patted my hand. I'm afraid I rather lost track of the rest of the conversation, until Dad hung up and handed me some pages torn out of his notebook.
I'm the type of person whose eyes are immediately attracted to the written word. It was a schedule of available Skype and satellite time for me at Dad's newsroom the next day. I teared up and Mom handed me a tissue.
"You are the best Daddy in the world."
Dad turned red. Mom laughed. "Way to go, Benny."
Needless to say, time flew. The discussion with the South Americans was intense, not for lack of willingness on their part, but because the of cases in Sierra Leon had jumped, as had new cases in Liberia. We needed a serious look at the situation by communicable disease experts.
The biggest problem of all seemed to be that President Obama is not the only president with an unwilling and uncooperative legislative body. They could only offer provisional help. Yet I did have to smile at the side comment from Argentina that now they would have something useful for all their psychologists on Freud Street to do. They could be in charge of convincing ordinary people that during this emergency that they needed to let go of custom for now and put safety first.
We were all able to work out more help for West Africa from many South American Nations. By the end of the session, I was excited and a little hyper—especially since Jack would be coming over to see me later.
My entire system was running like an engine with the carburetor set too fast. When the doorbell rang, I knew it was Jack. I couldn't stand it and answered the door myself.
I opened the door and he was smiling at me. His ears were sticking out under his hat. I pulled him inside and we kissed. He tasted good.
"Hey All American Boy, quit the tonsil hockey with my daughter and close the door. It's cold."
"Sorry, E.G."
Dad let Jack call him, "E.G.? That was interesting. Dad's hobby ever since I started dating was hating my boyfriends. Mom only ever hated Ian. Jack put his arm around me.
"Hi. I've missed you—a lot!"
"And I missed you. What do you have planned?
"Dinner and lots of catching up at my place."
I grinned. I liked the way he worded that.
"Good, I'll just get my bag." I left to get my big bag, and pulled it in behind me. Jack winked at me. I kissed and hugged my parents and followed Jack out to his car. I heard the crunch of frozen snow under my feet. Jack locked my bag in his trunk and asked, "Which restaurant?"
"I haven't had New England Cuisine in ages."
TBC